Far and Away
by fearmywaffles
Summary: In which Hiro struggles to save himself when nobody else can.
1. Chapter 1

"Hiro, it can't possibly be that bad…come out!"

Tadashi froze when he heard a choked sob from behind the bathroom door. He pressed his ear against it, waiting for a response. "Hiro?" Tadashi called tentatively, placing his palm on the door. He checked the wrist watch on his other arm: 1:32 a.m. What was so horrible that his little brother had holed himself up this late at night?

Aunt Cass, who was standing near him, tried reaching for the doorknob; however, Tadashi put his arm out in front of her, mouthing: _"It's locked."_

"_What, why?"_ She mouthed back. Tadashi only shook his head. Her guess was as good as his. Tadashi had been up late cramming for his final exams, but had not noticed that Hiro wasn't in bed until he'd finished his studies. He'd been trying to coax his little brother out of the bathroom for thirty minutes now, and had only recently gone to ask Aunt Cass for help.

"I can't…." A small voice croaked from the other side. "I **can't**! Nobody can help me."

Aunt Cass suddenly dug her fingers into Tadashi's sleeve. They exchanged worried glances, both feeling sick with nerves and panic. If it came down to it, Tadashi thought he might just have to take drastic measures and bust the door down himself. Although doors are easily replaceable, his little brother Hiro was not, and he didn't know what he'd do if he lost him too. Holding his breath, he didn't know how much longer he could tolerate doing nothing. It wasn't in his nature (nor was it in Aunt Cass's). He ran a shaky hand through his hair, listening for sounds inside the bathroom. He could still hear Hiro's bawling, which was sometimes accompanied by a cough or wheeze. Tadashi couldn't remember him ever being this upset before, and Hiro had been quite the fussy child growing up.

"Aunt Cass…" Hiro wept. It sounded like he had crawled closer towards the door and was leaning against it.

"Hiro?!"

"Please make it….." Hiro trailed off mid-sentence, "Please, it… hurts so bad."

"Sweetheart, you have to let us in!" She begged him, rattling the knob even though she knew it wouldn't open. "HIRO!"

_Click._

The door was unlocked, and Tadashi was the first to rush inside. What they found, to their horror, was a small figure covered in bruises and bleeding lacerations that curved down his back and could be traced down to his ankles. It almost broke Tadashi. Aunt Cass wailed, scooping her nephew into her arms and sweeping her hands all over the bloody places on his body.

"I'm sorry," Hiro feebly cried, looking up at her. "I tried to hide it—but I can't anymore. I can't."

And then he went limp in her arms.


	2. Chapter 2

"**Does a pinprick of light appear in their darkness?**_**"**_

_-Diane Setterfield, The Thirteenth Tale_

* * *

><p>Hiro was sitting on the edge of his bed early one Saturday morning, about two days after being discharged from the hospital. Aunt Cass stumbled into his room, clearly exhausted, carrying a bucket in one hand and a soapy sponge in the other. The doctor had specifically instructed her to clean his wounds for the next ten to twelve days and reapply the bandages as needed. They'd also given her a bottle of pain medicine, which she kept hidden somewhere in the house. Aunt Cass didn't trust Hiro enough to let him take it on his own, apparently. She was keeping him under constant supervision and wouldn't let him go anywhere— he felt like a sickly, frail animal trapped in a small cage. All he wanted was to be left alone, if just for a little while. But that obviously wasn't happening anytime soon. Not when his aunt had it in her head that he'd been trying to off himself.<p>

"_How are you feeling?"_ She asked him, kneeling to peel away the bandages on his legs.

Hiro considered her question for a moment. "Don't know…"

Aunt Cass didn't say anything else for a while as she dipped the sponge into the bucket, wrung it out, and began washing his legs. Hiro was about to ask why they hadn't gone to the bathroom down the hall instead, but stopped himself. He knew better not to ask. It would probably be impossible for her not to associate that bathroom with his supposed "suicide attempt." Bringing it up would only lead her to ask more questions that he really didn't want to answer.

After she was done with cleaning all the major lacerations along his back and legs, she gently dabbed him dry with a towel and applied new bandages. She slopped the sponge into the bucket and he tossed the towel near a hamper by the door. Then, she led him downstairs to the cafe area.

"Hungry?" She asked as he sat down at a table by the front window. He nodded. Hiro actually didn't have much of an appetite, but he knew fully well she would get upset if he didn't eat anything.

She disappeared into the kitchen. He could hear her moving about, opening the fridge, the cabinets, and gathering pans from a distance. Suddenly, she peered out at him through a rectangular hole between the kitchen and eating area (if he remembered correctly, it was called a pass-through). "How about an egg, bacon, cheese, and sausage omelet with a side of toast?"

"Sure…" He called back over his shoulder. She smiled wanly and disappeared again.

He stared outside the window, where rain bounced off of the pavement and skated into storm drains, and people lost their umbrellas to the wind. This winter was breaking records. The weather in San Fransokyo was colder and rainier than it had been in decades. There had even been whisperings of snow in the area.

That might have excited him a little while ago…

As rain tapped the glass, Hiro wonderingly traced shapes in the mist with his finger, watching the condensation cover his tracks again. He took his sleeve and wiped it away so he could see clearer, and after he took his hand away, Hiro beamed at his handiwork.

_(__**HA**__.)_

Then he saw his own reflection sneering back at him and he frowned, squinting at it.

He jumped from the shock of locking eyes with himself, feeling put-off. His face looked haggard and pale and reedy… he thought he could almost feel the cheekbones underneath his skin. It was really no wonder that his aunt was worried about him.

A few moments later, Tadashi came downstairs in his PJ's. Hiro could see him in the reflection, but pretended he didn't notice he was there. Hiro saw him stop and tilt his head, looking in his general direction with an unreadable expression on his face. Then, sighing, Tadashi slunk into the kitchen. The fog came creeping back over the window, so Hiro quickly wiped it away with his sleeve again. He knew that they were talking about him, and he wanted to catch them in the act. He wasn't stupid.

As expected, their heads eventually surfaced in the pass-through behind him. They darted their gazes back and forth, speaking in hushed tones. He couldn't make out what they were saying. Aunt Cass started pacing around the kitchen, but Tadashi stood in place, head lowered. She came back towards Tadashi, holding a hand over her mouth. His aunt looked like she was close to tears…

He felt guilty…

Hiro knew what had happened wasn't his fault. Still, it was obvious what they were thinking about him. He didn't know what to make of it… he heaved a sigh, shifting uncomfortably. His body was aching and throbbing all over. The pain lanced up his legs and back, then down again to his ankles with every movement of his body. Yesterday hadn't been as bad, but (for whatever reason) today was much, much worse. It was an endless hell. He knew his wounds had been serious, but he hadn't anticipated the pain being this sharp and mind-numbing. In truth, he'd ignorantly hoped the pain would leave after leaving the hospital. What a laugh. When he could endure it no longer, Hiro stood up stiffly and slogged into the kitchen where they were muttering about him.

"Aunt Cass…" Hiro called out, coming face-to-face with them. They froze momentarily upon his entering, and Tadashi excused himself to check on the food for Aunt Cass. His aunt approached him slowly while brushing some invisible spec off of her shirt.

Hiro stood there uneasily. He was struggling with himself, caught between wanting to tough out the pain on his own and wanting desperately for the pain to go away. In order for him to get a pain killer, though, he'd need to eat something first. He remembered the doctor warning him about the dangers of taking pain medication on an empty stomach— doing so could cause the medication to strip away the lining of his stomach: causing bleeding, ulcers, or irritation.

He knew she was preparing food for the three of them, which meant they would have to sit down together at the same table to eat it. She was very strict about that, she always had been. Knowing this, Hiro knew he wouldn't be able to bear it.

"Can I be excused?" He blurted finally, trying not to let on how much pain he was in. "I'm really… tired."

Aunt Cass looked him over briefly before placing the back of her hand over his forehead. He didn't have a fever, but if she felt that he was even the slightest bit warm he would probably be forced to eat something. And he really didn't want that.

"Well… you feel all right." She replied after a long exhale. "I suppose so."

"Thank you," Hiro mumbled, ducking out of the kitchen as fast as he possibly could (which was incredibly painful, but he didn't care).

Hiro trudged up the stairs to his room and burrowed under the hump of quilts laying on his bed. If he was lucky, he'd sleep most of the day away. His stomach growled, but he ignored it. No way was he going back down there, not now anyway. No. He would fix himself a grilled cheese sandwich or a pizza later when he woke up. Twisting and turning on his bed, he frantically tried to subdue the pain wracking him. His body felt like a warzone. All the fretting wore him out in the end, though, and Hiro Hamada fell into a restless sleep.


End file.
